Mira Nakashima: Not Far From the Tree

The furniture designer Mira Nakashima, at the company she’s run since the death of her father, George. An exhibition of new work by the studio will showcase, as his own work did, the natural form and character of wood.Credit
Fred R. Conrad/The New York Times

Mira Nakashima worked in the shadow of her legendary furniture-maker father, George Nakashima, for two decades. But when he died in 1990, many clients canceled their orders or demanded a discount because the pieces wouldn’t have the signature of “the master.” For a time, his daughter, who holds two degrees in architecture, thought she would have to shutter the family business.

But Mira Nakashima not only continued to fulfill orders for her father’s classics, but also expanded the firm’s repertory with designs of her own that, like his, showcase the natural form and character of wood. On Sept. 20, Moderne Gallery, in Philadelphia, will open “Nakashima Woodworkers: An Evolving Legacy,” a show encompassing more than two dozen wide-ranging pieces. Ms. Nakashima, now 72, spoke about the new work from her studio in New Hope, Pa.

Q. How are preparations for the show coming along?

A. We’re in the home stretch. Some pieces are actually still in the works. We’ve never done some of them before, and I’m not sure how they’re going to look and whether I’m going to be proud or embarrassed. So it’s exciting — and nerve-racking.

How is the new work different?

A lot of what will be in the show is still in the prototype stage. Dad always said that when he first worked out a design, there would be bugs in it. When I was little, I thought he meant actual insects, but he just meant the design needed to be refined. He would do something once, and the next time he made it a little different, and the time after that he changed it again. Some of the pieces in the show probably will never be repeated. We are using a lot of unusual woods that we may never see again. But there will also be traditional George Nakashima designs, so people won’t think we’ve completely gone off the deep end.

A lot of people think it can’t be Nakashima unless it has free edges, but one piece in the show is a drop-leaf table without free edges that’s based on one of the designs Dad did for Widdicomb-Mueller in the late ’50s, early ’60s. One of the reasons we did that table was to use a big pile of cherry that had been sitting around forever. The wood didn’t look like much out in the shed. It was gray and weathered, and the edges were deteriorated. But when we got it inside and started dressing it down, it turned out to be the most beautiful cherry. Dad always said wood was like fruit: it was best just before it rots. He used to hoard what he thought was special wood. Maybe he hoarded that cherry.

What makes a new piece a “Nakashima” piece?

It’s a little bit of an intangible thing. When we get stuck, we ask ourselves, “What would George have done?”

This show is not only introducing new work, it’s also introducing the concept of the “Nakashima Woodworkers.”

Photo

A new end table and chair with claro walnut burl features.Credit
Fred R. Conrad/The New York Times

Our official title will still be George Nakashima Woodworker, but the concept of the woodworkers needs to be strengthened for the future. Everybody has finite life, and some day my brother and I won’t be in control. It would be nice to have a group of people who collaborate together and call themselves the Nakashima Woodworkers and carry on.

It sounds as if you are trying to brand the work as a group effort.

One of the myths that grew up around my father was that he did everything with his own two hands. But almost from the beginning he had help. When he died, there were 12 people in the shop. We have 10 skilled craftspeople with us today.

You apprenticed under your father and now have your own assistant, Miriam Carpenter. Her work will be in the show. What is her role?

She’s been with us for six years, basically doing what I did for two decades, being the understudy. With one big difference: When I did a drawing that Dad didn’t like, he would just go in and change it. When I feel I need to change something, I explain why.

A version of this article appears in print on September 5, 2013, on Page D2 of the New York edition with the headline: A Daughter Provides New Growth. Order Reprints|Today's Paper|Subscribe